


A Night with a King

by BriarRosesAndThorns



Category: Exalted (Roleplaying Game), Scheherazade - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tabletop Gaming, Change the World, Dragon Kings Exalted, Dragonblooded Exalted, F/M, First Age, Folklore Updated, Historical Tale Twists, Kings & Queens, Solar Exalted, Storytelling, kingdom - Freeform, scheherazade - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 20:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18239813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriarRosesAndThorns/pseuds/BriarRosesAndThorns
Summary: Aurora steps up to stop a King out of control from killing a bride every morning, and weaves a tale to transform him. Will she succeed? Or has she signed her death warrant?Based loosely on the Thousand and One Arabian Nights, and set in the Exalted RPG world, OC and a remix of the Deity Pantheon presented in the rulebooks.





	A Night with a King

**Author's Note:**

> Glossary at the end for any unknown terms :D

I stumble when I step out of the traveling chair, but catch myself without having to take hold of the arms or anyone nearby. My legs are stiff after three days of travel; I can only imagine how tired the bearers must be. I wish I’d been allowed to ride horseback, but a trip like this demands a certain amount of implied dignity.

  
There are guards all along the courtyard and along the path, but despite the grandeur of their uniforms, the most similar thing about all of them is how tense they are. There are no servants gathering in the outer or inner courts, no nobles this far inside. They have all set up their tents outside the front gates, in rows and rows of judgemental glistening eyes that peer from between the fabric. Inside the walls, there is almost an oppressive lack of eyes that makes me itch to look between all of the arches and windows for the people like Hashi, or Cane, the under servants who are always curious to see who it is they will be hosting. Instead, there is an almost obscene amount of orichalcum in the walls, fantastic shapes contorted and carved into forms of man, beast, and some several million other indecipherable beings. Glittering gems stare and wink glassily at me in faceted flickers, thousands and thousands looking down upon my progress. Behind me, there are other people arriving; my mother, my father, several dignitaries, Sage. Even though I know I should wait to be announced properly, I feel something pulling my feet toward where I know the king will be. I feel... entranced, enchanted, faint and nearly to the point of being ill, but languidly I glide up the hall as if it takes no effort, as if I weigh nothing at all, as if the world is moving around me rather than me through it.

“Aurora!” My father’s voice cannot quite break the spell. Something is happening to me, I think as I watch his mouth move. He takes my arm and we lead up the stairs, passing through the great golden arched doors into the inner court, into the receiving room, before the throne. We pay our obeisance before the throne, and wait. The king sits forward in his seat, discussing something upon a scroll in a hushed and feverish tone with a man who must be his steward; he must be hearing something that doesn’t settle with him, as his gestures become more expansive. He takes notice of us at length, and straightens, waving his steward aside. The man deferentially rolls the scroll up and takes a step back from his king, waiting politely, at ease but ready to act in a second. “Lord Aphelion. You bring a kind gift to a grieving man,” he says. There is a volume to his voice that fills the entire room, without shouting, but there is also a sharpness to the vowels, a quirk of his mouth that turns his face sour rather than welcoming. We are wasting his time, I think. He is burning for something, and we are wasting his time.

“She desired only to bring you joy, Imperial Majesty; and how could I refuse her pleasure when it so perfectly aligns with yours? Your letter was quite eloquent.”

“Pretty words from the father; what says the mother?” He dismisses the compliment, if he even noticed it in the first place. In his position, most of what he hears must be empty flattery.

“Imperial Majesty, I am filled with nothing but joy that my daughter should be so favored. It is a great honor for her.”

He snorts, and finally looks me over. I look down before I see his eyes, and wait quietly, with my spine straight, the hair on the back of my neck prickling and the numb ache of focus at the back of my skull where it joins to my spine telling me that I have never been so afraid that all of this has been a terrible misjudgment of character.

“Well, my lady Daughter of Heaven’s Aurora,” he tries out, letting the words spill out of his mouth like sour wine.

“Tell me, is it joy that you bring your parents?”

“They tell me so,” I say, I think I say, I think it is hard to breathe in here, and the nervous energy is enough to make me forget and fearlessly speak without really remembering anything that passes through my lips. It’s a delicious delirium, and I find myself wanting to laugh at the fact that this is so very serious, and that I cannot think clearly enough or remember what I said even a moment ago. I stand straight, but don’t meet his eyes just yet. “You must tell me if I bring joy to you as well. You seem a man who has much he wants to achieve, and I would help you with that if I may. I will be glad if I am able to bring you even a little pleasure by the time we part.”

“You do not believe in subtlety, do you.”

“I believe your Imperial Majesty has had enough of shadows,” I say, and look into his eyes, wondering if I will see his soul or simply the color of his eyes. There’s a low resonant humming in the back of my mind, like honey. Thick and golden, heavy sunflower heads shimmering under the sun at noon. “I would be pleased if you saw none while we are together when it comes to this most serious matter.” His eyes are dark and flat, and the smile he wears looks like a snarl, creases around his lips like pain, drawing back so his teeth show more discretely. The shadows under his eyes and brightness in them look like fear or fervor is riding him hard past exhaustion. There’s no light to him. It has been stolen, leaving only grasping sharp edges in relief against a gaping emptiness.  
I feel the wind stolen from my lungs like a physical blow, but he is less threatening than a second ago. The light in the hall behind me is brighter than before as the sun begins to emerge on the horizon to fill the room. He stares at me and I look away, down at my folded hands with fingers tightly interwoven. I relax them with effort, let them fall to my sides. Glancing to the side, I see my father’s lips tighten, my mother’s smile turn brittle.

The king makes them wait before he speaks again and they can discern his mood, but I already know he is not unreceptive. “Perhaps it is a gift after all, Aphelion. Unintended, I think. My minister will speak with you before you leave about the details, but I believe your daughter must leave us and retire to her new rooms. She will want to prepare herself before dinner, I would imagine.”

I bow low again. “As it pleases your Imperial Majesty.”

He waves his hand and the first servant I have seen appears to conduct me upstairs to the Empress’ quarters. My mother is opening her mouth to speak when I leave the room. I wonder if I’ll see either of them in private again before the morning. My mother’s smile has grown relaxed in the way it always does when something falls into place in the endless revolution of her planning, but it is only a lull before she focuses on another detail. I wonder what her greater scheme is this time, and how hard she will fight to keep the last daughter of her house.

My guide is a young boy who shyly peers at me out of the corner of his eyes when he thinks I won’t notice. The same tenseness of the guards settles in the base of his spine, but he seems easier with it, having grown up with this danger already in play.

Walking up to the room I feel the sun more frequently than I expected; there are more windows than I imagined, but even so I hadn’t anticipated they would make this much of a difference. The room turns out to be several, and they are all much more full of furniture than even I would have expected. Everything is golden and dusty, and even the dust motes are gold; tapestries quietly, dully hang on walls, unlooked at; the carpets spring up beneath our feet like the soft grass the first night that Cailen took me to the river. The boy opens the door to the first of the empress’ chambers, and standing in the room with their eyes respectfully turned down are the first women I have seen since we truly crossed the border into this kingdom. One is badly scarred, but the other two merely have hands that have worked at a craft for long enough to gain calluses, and therefore must not yet be in the line for queenship. I see through the door to the bedroom that the bed is perfectly made, and doesn’t appear to have been slept in. I wonder how many girls before me have spent the night pacing in this front room, since the carpet on the floor seems to be more worn before the fireplace than anywhere else. It is a large fireplace, but there are no tools to handle the fires. I wonder detachedly through a bubble of sudden fear that their absence is intended to protect the king when he visits, or to prevent desperate women from making desperate decisions. But then, I think, perhaps the maids only carry the tools with them.

I wonder if eventually these women will have to wait on one another, if there will be a day when they all have died and the halls are empty. I steel my spine and hold my chin higher. I will not fail.

With the help of the three maids, my hair is brushed and oils are run through it so that it will be soft and smooth, I am bathed and dressed, and my face and hands are painted in the style of this kingdom and not my own. I slide my favorite kanzashi, the one with the azaleas, into my hair and no one questions me.

There is a gentle tapping upon the door; the minister sent to accompany me back through the halls is one I do not recognize from the hall. He seems elderly, but there is something about his gait that seems strange, slightly more fluid and comfortable than a man of his age typically is able to sustain. He compliments the green of my robes, and I thank him, despite the fact that my robes are clearly a dark, rich, ruddy brown like dried blood, red like apple skins, and clean gold like flax in a meadow.

“You must be afraid,” he tells me gently, and his eyes seem much too sharp to have suffered from age. “I remember when the last queen walked these halls. She was barely old enough to have put her hair up. She wore the green as well. Her feet never wavered once. Just like yours.”

I force my next step to be even and measured. “Have you met many of the queens?” I ask, and turn to face him as we descend the stairs.

“Nearly all.” He tilts his head, squinting as he looks at me. “But not so many that I forget the ones who do not falter.”

I smile at him. “Your time at court has left you quite the flatterer, lord...?”

“Not a lord, my dear. Just an observer. We may meet again.” And he spends the rest of the twisting way through the halls pointing out various weapons upon the walls, and then we have arrived at the king’s private chambers.  
He taps politely, the door is opened, and I walk inside. The king stops talking to his steward mid-sentence and stands. I bow, but not quite so low as earlier. “I beg your pardon, Imperial Majesty; I did not intend to interrupt.”

“Come join us,” he says, gesturing at one of the mass of cushions beside him. “Gilded Mollusk was telling me about the rate of wheat in your land. Your father has left quite the list.”

“I would imagine so, Imperial Majesty.”

He looks askance at me, and the steward stares at me.

I dip my head and add, “He is famous in Cherak for his list-making. It is said that no one makes more of them, or ones more convoluted in meaning and execution than he, although not unto his face.”

Gilded Mollusk looks to his lord before he reacts with a polite smile. The king laughs once, shortly, and hands the list to me. “Perhaps you’ll make better sense of it then.

I step around the low table and settle gingerly upon one of the cushions he has offered. He sits as well, sinking his weight down like a great lion, and the Steward quietly takes his place on the other side of the table.

I read through it quickly. Father isn’t using any ciphers that I recognize, but then, he wouldn’t be sloppy if he was trying to pass information along to someone else. It looks to be one of his typical rambling messes without the usual furbelows and flourishes that he uses if the list is for one of his underlings. “If it please your Majesty, I believe he’s merely presenting you with the surplus we had this year. Or rather, he intends to send the wagonloads if you accept the tribute. Additionally he’s informing you of the attacks we faced this summer from Tyrant Lizards and requesting assistance in flushing them out if you find yourself with the means, time, and interest; he’s aware that you have far greater matters to attend to, but would appreciate your discernment in this matter.”

“Where does he say that?” Gilded Mollusk snatches the pages out of my hands. I gently fold them, and drop them into my lap, smiling at him.

“Nowhere outright, my lord. He merely mentioned the attacks three times and has written a suggestion on the second page that a larger force would be better able to protect the peasantry from the incursions.”

“An interesting gift indeed. What do you propose I do about it, Daughter of Heaven’s Aurora? The king reclines onto the cushions and I wonder if this will be the entirety of my last hours.

“Your Majesty, I’m in no position to propose anything upon the subject. I will admit that I have been remiss in my duties that I haven’t actually researched the problem. But if your Imperial Majesty will permit, it is difficult to listen to the petitioners who speak of the deaths the lizards have been causing. It would be merciful to perhaps consider a way to manage the population of lizards so that your subjects do not continue to live in fear.”

“You suggest that I send aid?”

“I am certain your Imperial Highness is more knowledgeable than I in what the appropriate response would be.” I catch his eye again, and I know he’s measuring me, categorizing, labelling. Discarding. “Perhaps your Majesty might offer a reward?” I offer, trying not to sound tentative.

“It’s possible,” he says. “What else is there?’

Gilded Mollusk shuffles another set of papers to the front of his stack. “Your Majesty cannot have failed to notice the increasing number of notes I have left upon your desk this week about the instability of mercantilism in this region. It seems that the... rumors of unrest have frightened off travelers and traders alike. It has been brought to my attention that we are very nearly running out of rice to feed our people, because of the drought, and that our usual imports have failed to provide enough of substance to compensate. What would you like me to do in regards to this problem?”

“I fail how this is a problem. Did you speak with the man from Jades? He spoke of vegetative technology from Rathess which ought to provide reliable water to the farmers.”

“I did, sire, but despite his extensive knowledge of the subject, he had expressed concerns to me about the length of time needed to grow the roots of the vines so that they would reach the fields adequately. We cannot wait so long for a solution, Your Majesty.”

“If you had started this project months ago, like I requested, we wouldn’t be in this position now. You will explain to the people that the drought is of your doing, and we will proceed with the vines as scheduled then. I suppose it is possible that we might trade for more goods if it’s necessary, but you may make those arrangements with the minister of finance.”

“The minister of finance has promised resignation if we are pushed to raising taxes again.”

“Let him. He’s one of a long line of administrators who have no vision. Besides, what would he do without his position? He hasn’t the social standing to leech off of anyone else. And he knows it too.” He leans forward, and I see the wall behind him for the first time; it’s covered in the sort of carvings that depict a living flame, captured in the moment of flickering wildly, settled atop what appears to be a great pyramid, surrounded by smaller ones. It is eerily familiar to me, and when I recognize it, I only know it from rumors of the great city in the South. It is an artist’s rendition of the Pyramid of the Sun in Rathess, surrounded by the temples along the Way of the Sun. Even from a discreet side glance, I know that the detail is beyond perfectly precise. Each stone is represented, shapes etched down to reveal what could be construed as blemishes in the actual structure, such as rounded corners and weathering, and here serve as proof of having seen the original intimately.

“Tell him that I expect him to have it sorted out by the end of the week. He will tell you that we won’t have the funding to complete the project, but he can dig a little deeper into his own pocket if needed. I’m sure he wouldn’t want to disappoint me with a lack of faith in our endeavors.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” says Gilded Mollusk in a tone of voice carefully modulated to reveal no emotions whatsoever.

“You do still believe that we can do this, don’t you?” The king sounds amused.

“How could I not, your Majesty? We will transform this city into the glorious monument that Sol desires, and people will speak of your works with as much reverence as you have proven you deserve.”

“It is not for me, Mollusk. You know that.” He sits back, apparently satisfied.

“We will build a tribute to the Unconquered Sun that they will speak of for generations. The people will understand, once it is completed and they feel His blessing. I’m certain that you will be able to convince them to wait a little longer.”

He pulls a cord on the wall, and Mollusk sweeps the papers into his arms. Servants enter with food and begin to lay it out onto the low table. Gilded Mollusk bows and excuses himself as soon as the food is served; he has begun to look strained, stretched to the limit, but I see his shoulders are straight and his head lifted.

As soon as the food has been all laid out, the king gestures vaguely at his men. “Leave us. I will dine with my queen alone.”

They leave, and the sliding of the paneled door closed is loud in the sudden silence. Steam rises from one of the plates, and I smell the sweetness of oranges. The air is suddenly thick. To calm my nerves, I take a careful sip of what's been poured for me; it's thick mead, and I can taste the honey when I swallow.

He cracks the bones of one of the roasted birds. It takes a great deal of effort not to flinch, but the mead helps.

“You’re quiet.”

I hope the warmth in my throat will spread to the rest of me soon. I’m not sure where to begin.

“Would your Majesty prefer that I speak?”

“You were rather eloquent in your letter. I would have expected more in person. Besides, we have all day to speak to one another. Silence would be draining, rather than consoling.”

“Very well.” I take one of the oranges from the bowl and begin to peel back its skin. “Would you like to hear about my home?”

His snort echoes against the metal walls.

“Or perhaps a story to pass the time. I could tell you the tale that prevented a typhoon from washing away the world, or the woman who became a dragon and reshaped the sun. Or would you like best the tale that softened the heart of a cruel god intent on devouring a child?”

“You think I will miss the barbs in your ‘story’?”

The golden light of the vessel my drink is in reminds me of the light in his eyes when I mentioned the tyrant lizards, and the light on the tapestries and bas-reliefs on the walls, and I remember with less fear and more suspicion how consistently he has killed his wives in the same way again and again. I think of the book from Rathess, the city of the Dragon Kings with their high pyramids that worship the sun with sacrifice. Perhaps I do have a story for him, after all.

“I think you do not know the story I will tell you until you have heard it, Your Majesty. But if you would prefer, I could tell you of mercantile affairs and child’s play instead. I merely thought you would desire more savor from the meat of this tale.”

He laughs, but it is not a sound I hear humor in. “Go ahead, tell your tale.” He drains his wineglass, but settles back into the cushions, idly swinging the base between his fingers to and fro like a pendulum.

“It is said that the Dragon Kings in the East perform a ritual of sacrifice to worship the Unconquered Sun.”

I see him startle, a slight contraction around his eyes and in the tightness of his fingers around the engraved and etched glass.

“And that is true, but what is not known is how the tradition began. A long time ago - and yet, perhaps it wasn’t such a very long time ago - when the world was filled with wonders, there was and there was not a hero born in the time of the greatest of powers, the light amongst the darkness that existed before the world, and which helped to create it. In the days in which the Dragon’s Shadow poisoned even the ground beneath our feet, Sol Invictus was born of night to define the darkness and give the Shadow of All Things a form with which he could touch that which was Created and Wyld. And in those days, it was that the Dragon Kings were servants of that darkness, and offered worship up unto the Primordial beings which had created them for no other purpose than to serve.”

“I have heard this story before,” the king grumbles, but quietly. He even waves the servant out of the room. His eyes haven’t met mine, but I can feel his attention on every move I make.

“Hush,” I say, and hand him the first piece of the orange in my hands, luminous and translucent in the sun.

“Sol Invictus walked among the shadows for many years, before he could finally bear the pain of corruption no more and in secret he began to make alliances with the lesser gods who skulked and creeped in the quietest corners of the darkness.”

There are no dark corners in this room, only bright golden walls and sealed doors, windows to the ceiling and skylights above. The sun begins to blaze through the roof and I am dazzled by the illumination.

“‘If you will aid me,” he promised, “you will walk in the light always. You will never live in fear again, for you will be acknowledged each to your own import. You will be free to act as you will.’

‘And the gods were afraid but they believed him, for how could they not? He promised to them hope and in turn they promised that in time they would follow his call.”

I give the king the second piece of the orange, before he might interrupt, for it seems that he might he inclined to do so.

“‘Sol Invictus went then to the Five Maidens as they waited and wove their threads into tapestries that defined nothing but the outer edges of the silk of the pattern spiders, as they crept across the warp and weft and through the threads. They even took the fibers of the Wyld as it raged against that which was Void, and that which was Created, and bound them together into shining wholes. Sol Invictus whispered that this was not all they might desire to be, and the maidens Drew him into their Embrace and asked him what his promise might be instead.”

“And what did he know that the fate-weavers did not?” the king asks, casually, but his hands are still in his lap and he is leaning toward me just the slightest amount. I give him a third piece of the orange.

“He turned at first to the Maiden of Battles, and said to her: ‘It is my wish that the people below might choose which battles they would fight. It would make them fight the harder if what they battled for was what they felt was right.’ The Maiden of Battles ever wielding the needle like a spear nodded silently but did not yet speak assent.

He turned then to the Maiden of Journeys, and said: “It is also my wish but they might choose their own destiny, as where they wander and do not is a gift not given them, to see where their hearts’ desire might draw them across the Earth when fear does not compel them to still feet itching to test new soil. And to see new sights and to learn of things other than their Homeland.” And the Maiden of Journeys endlessly tapping her feet beneath the loom lifted her eyes to the horizon but she also said nothing, awaiting her sisters’ decisions.

Next he looked to the Maiden of Serenity. “Only in the stillness between two breaths is there time to discover joys and pleasures that await those who are not driven by fear and compelled by darkness to remain constantly irrevocably aware of the watching of the night of every single caress and intention.” And the Maiden of Serenity brushed the side of her neck with long thoughtful fingers that invited attention and promised something more, but though her dark eyes met those of Ignis Divine and her lips parted slightly, her voice was yet still.

Then he spoke to the Maiden of Secrets, and he said “I am sure that even you do not know what Humanity might choose if it were given the power of revelation or keeping that which is most dear close to their hearts, for it is not known to any what undisclosed truths might alter that which is and that which may be. Perhaps it is a secret that even you might wish to know, for with it your own understanding might become more dear to you.” And the Maiden of Secrets, constantly twisting and twining the fibers of the possible and impossible into thread with which her sisters might leave paused a moment in her work and tied an imperceptible knot which snagged when the Maiden of Battles drew it through the warp of the loom and perhaps altered slightly the fate of that which was to come, or perhaps merely represented that which always already was. But Sol Invictus knew not whether it was an answer or simply that which in its own time must come to be.

And finally he turned the Maiden of Endings, but before he even drew breath to attempt to persuade her to his own way of thinking, she stood and set her hands upon the role of already woven tapestry And she spoke to him, and he was silent, and the smell of lilacs came unto him as a revelation. “You have spoken of what might be if that which you hope for most should come to pass. But it will not be simple, even with our aid. You must gather those who are most loyal to your cause, and who will keep the faith most closely with you, for even if you persuade the undecided to your cause, those whom you seek to protect the most will prove your strongest allies, or darkest enemies.”

And Sol Invictus thanked them, and although he did not believe entirely her words, he carried them with him in his heart.”

I see him open his mouth to interrupt again, and this time I feel bold enough to simply pop the fourth slice of orange into his mouth and smile at his surprise.

“Then he went to Autochthon, who had ever been lessered by his fellows even though he was a primordial as well. Autochthon felt such gratefulness to be treated as an equal by Ignis Divine, and every one of his gears and pistons came alive with delight and loyalty. He swore to support this just cause, despite the fact that he would have to turn upon his brethren in order to do so. And he was honored for the difficulty of this choice.”

“But what about the Maiden’s words to him? Did he just forget what she said to him?” He reaches for the fifth slice of orange before I have to offer it even.

“He kept them in his heart, and they turned and turned again as he tried to make sense of them, for the words of the Maiden of Endings are ever complex and layered. And he was considering these words even as he travelled to speak with Gaia, the first Mother of Creation.

“Gaia herself groaned under the weight of many wars and scars of Oblivion, and although she too was of the Primordial forces, she was gladdened by the love of the second Mother of Creation. Sol Invictus spoke with Gaia, telling her of his dream of freedom from her fellows, and she shuddered at his words. She did not desire to support betrayal, and she denied him her aid. But Invictus Sol sat a while with her, considering the words of the Maidens and wondering how to persuade this undecided one to his cause, and eventually his patience paid off. For, in time, the Second Mother of Creation became removed from Gaia’s heart, and instead a being who was neither of Gaia’s bosom nor the of the darkness stole the heart of Gaia, and was beloved by her, and this was Luna. Luna, who was in all ways ever-changing and unlike the steadiness of Gaia; Luna, who discovered the presence of Ignis Divine, and among them many faces of this lover he found great depths of undying hope and loyalty. And although she was not quite the equal of his power, Luna was no less a match for those he wished to stand against. Soon, the trickster promised aid to the Unconquered Sun, and in the face of her lover’s desires, Gaia could not stand against Invictus Sol, and the second time he asked her for aid she grew still and resigned. She promised to him that while she would not aid him in his mission, neither would she stand against him and those who stood with him. And so he planned with Luna, and told her that which the Maidens had told him, and together they devised a plan to raise up that which was small and mortal into that which would tear down even the darkest and most devious of the Primordial beings. They told the Maidens of this plan, and they too agreed that this would be best. And so the Celestial Incarnae began to gift the strongest, cleverest, most-clear sighted, and brightest of those living within Gaia’s domain with the blessing of divinity, so that they could come together into the army that was needed.”

“But Sol Invictus was not done, for at last he realized with this gift-giving what the Maiden of Endings had known all along. And he went to the Dragon Kings, because he knew that they were loyal, fierce, wise, and that they would fight the harder for they knew of what they stood against. He strode through the city of Rathess and spoke to the Dragon Kings, who surrounded him in crowds, saying to them that their aid was needed in this most serious of tasks. Even before the words were out of his mouth, they promised him their allegiance and aid, and offered to him the sacrifice of the lives of their best and brightest to accompany the newly-formed and gifted mortals, who would require guidance from these elder kindred. And he accepted their fealty and their lives, but not yet their deaths, for he knew that there would be great losses among their numbers though even he did not know how great those losses would be.

“And then at last Ignis Divine called upon the lesser gods, and the Dragon Kings, and upon the Celestial Incarnae, and together they struck at the heart of the darkness, and the bloody battles began against the Shadow of all Things, and all those who stood with him; and even Gaia’s former love for the Second Mother did not save her, even the smallest and kindest of those who were primordial. There were many lives lost, and those mortals blessed with divinity proved their worth even as they died and were revered and mourned greatly by no less than Invictus Sol himself. And they were honored in those ways that the Dragon Kings taught them, for this taste of the divine was more than they had understood, and more than their fellows knew to release again.

“But the fiercest fighters against that which had been sacred were indeed the Dragon Kings, who built machines of war, and attacked where weakness lurked and was forgotten, and their priests called wrathfully against those who had deceived them and taken the purpose from their millennia of service and sacrifice and rendered it meaningless. And they taught all that they knew to their younger blessed mortal brothers and sisters, and made their talents all the sharper for the knowledge, wisdom, and understanding that the Dragon Kings had acquired over the years.

“Even so, they were pushed back, into the refuges of Rathess and the other great fortresses, and many of the strongholds were lost. But Rathess stood, and withstood the full wrath of the Primordial gods, and they were angered by their inability to take by storm the keep of their former stewards. And among the Dragon Kings rose great heroes, such as Achcauhtli Eztli, whose talons blazed a path of fire and brimstone through the servants of the Primordials, and against the darkness itself rendered it ragged and torn with many wounds. And there was Etalpalli Yaotl, who flew above the battle and from these heights sang a song of vengeance and fury that pierced into the very marrows of the insubstantial enemy and drove the shadows back into the collected darkness where they swirled in panic and anger. These among others drove back the poison from the land, and step by step, wing by claw by tooth by hand, they stood against the darkness and did not falter.”

He reaches for the sixth piece of the orange, and I slip it into my own mouth, and smile. His surprise is nearly palpable. I take the seventh piece and offer it to him with the sweetness of the juice soothing my throat. The sun lights up the lower steps of the pyramid in the bas-relief beside me on the wall, climbing its way up to the top where the carved sunburst crowns the peak.

“But those who were Primordial were clever, and had knowledge far beyond the years of even Invictus Sol. They knew, as the Maidens knew, that the greatest power of the army arrayed against them came from those who Ignis Divine intended to protect; for even as they died and were reborn again and again, the Dragon Kings and those who had been exalted did not lose faith or hope in their leader and fought harder even yet than those who were of the Incarnae or older. And so they began a deeper magic, and one by one they caused it to be such that the Dragon Kings were not born again when they fell, but were lost beyond the Abyss.

“And so the tide began to turn against those who were with Sol Invictus, and the great cities that had once housed the Dragon Kings, and those who had been exalted by the sun, began to ring with emptiness and desolation upon broken stone. Those who were Primordial began to use this to their advantage. ‘Look at the one you follow,’ they whispered in between the spaces of the last breaths, in the sharpness between painful spasms and retchings, in the moments of the night where everything is still with an exhausted horror that drains all the color from that which is beautiful about the moon or stars, ‘Look at the one you follow. He promised you the light of the sun, the power of the fruits of our labors. He promised you all this and more. But see how his actions have corrupted his meanings? He has brought you nothing but pain and destruction.’ And though they would not hear what was said, each of the lesser followers could not but hear these words even against their will, and their morale was brought low. ‘It was better as it was before,’ spoke those who were Primordial, and even Gaia shuddered under the weight of these words and could not be comforted.”

“But then the Unconquered Sun brought them back into the light,” the king prompts. I hold the eighth piece in my hand, and raise it above the wineglass with the honey-mead.

“It was not yet so,” I contend, and when his face looks to darken, I crush the orange slice between my fingers and the juice drips into my glass. “For even as those who were Primordial began to stir in earnest and excitement to enact the plan they had created, one among them who was more clever than the rest chose to save one of his lesser enemies, instead of killing the entirety of those who stood against him. And this lesser enemy, some say of mortal blood, some say of the blood of Dragon Kings, was kept in torment and the reports of this situation were brought back to Sol Invictus as a threat against his actions, so that he might not be able to act in defense of his people.

“He could not bear to let this, the bravery and loyalty of these the least of his supporters go unanswered. It came to his mind that he could instead save this mortal, this brave soul, and that the reward for this courage would not be to perish in despair. The grief of this, and the loss of the Dragon Kings, those he had exalted, and his other allies, ate at him until he would act. But many of his allies spoke against this action.

“‘You will demoralize your allies,’ said Luna, with shifting form and flashing eyes. ‘You will betray the confidence of your followers.’

“‘If I do not do what is best for them, I deserve the loss of my allies,’ Invictus Sol told her. ‘If I do nothing to save this one of my followers, I betray the confidence of them all.’

“‘It is madness,’ declared the Maiden of Battles, with the haze of red blood tangible around her. ‘We will not lose that which is most valuable for a common and easily replaced pawn.’

“‘Our ends do not justify our means,’ Invictus Sol told her, ‘In this, we differ from those we stand against.’

“‘It is too far into their realm for you to return easily,’ said the Maiden of Journeys, tracing out the route upon their battle map. ‘Once gone, you will never return to us.’”

“‘There is no distance too great, nor travel too arduous that I would not undertake for those who would undertake it for me,’ Invictus Sol told her.

“‘It is a noble cause, but you cannot betray all for the love of one,’ spoke the Maiden of Serenity, clasping her hands before her.

“‘I would do no less for any other,’ Invictus Sol told her, ‘and this is why it is never a betrayal. I must do this for one, or for none, and I cannot bear to let their love turn to ash.’

“‘It is only a mortal,’ said the Maiden of Secrets, ‘There is no knowledge that they have that will be worth what you will offer.’ And her voice was penetrating to his very core where the absence of fear spawned forth victory upon victory and never retreat.

“‘That is as it may be,’ Invictus Sol told her, ‘But they will come upon knowledge and wisdom and innovation in ways that are far less predictable and far greater in wonder than I alone would offer.’

And he turned at last to the Maiden of Endings, anticipating some greater argument. But the Maiden of Endings was silent, and though she shook her head, she would not explain why.

“It was my choice to give them power beyond their ken, and to bring them into battles beyond even that which we might achieve of our strength,” Sol Invictus told them all. And so the armies of the Celestial were rocked with the horror of unfathomable desertion, when in front of all Ignis Divine stepped forth and in trade for the life of the captured hostage, he gave himself to the waiting Primordials, and thus we call him ‘Guarding Star’, for we have none of us ever forgotten this act of compassion.”

I feel the sunlight light my hands and as it does it creeps ever towards the peak of the pyramid. There is no fear, only sweetness, and I would drink down the look of intention, of focus, that the king is looking at me with, for it is more nectarous than my orange-dyed mead. I think I see something like a tear in his eye, and some deeper hurt that is brought to the surface, touched upon but not sharply. His mouth has slackened in the way that even children’s mouths do when they hear a story, and the sunlight fills my head with the music that causes him to breathe more quickly or slowly than even the words themselves do.

“The Primordials, clutching their prize as tightly as they could, sought only to find a way to break him to their advantage. And it seemed to them that they would win, for they were unrelenting in the pains and afflictions they heaped upon the captive Ignis Divine through means of foul sorcery and dark torment, and at long last it seemed that he would capitulate to their desires. With the power of Sol Invictus, they believed, they would be able to defeat his exaltations and allies, who despite the loss of their greatest hero, rallied, led by the Dragon Kings who were ever loyal, and indeed fought even harder than before to win back their general. For they knew that because of the sacrifice of their great hero for the least of their kind, that there was nothing that he would not do for them, for the best of their desires and for the hope that they would be empowered to live in the new world he had promised.

“But despite this fresh opposition, those who were Primordial brought Invictus Sol to a seat at the table of the Games of Divinity, gloating and gleeful in their victory over that which had risen against them, and they permitted him to play with them, for they were certain that he would rebel no more and the waves of his followers would be defeated. And so it seemed he would not provide any resistance, and there was a darkness that fell over all without the hall.”

A cloud passes above the room we sit in, and the pyramid on the wall plunges into darkness. I see the king shiver, and reach a hand out for his.

“Are you well, your majesty? May I fetch you anything?”

“Finish your story,” he snaps, but I feel the pleading in his fingers. I do not think he is asking me for the story really, but I simply take his hand and set the ninth piece of orange into it.

“Even though the darkness seemed to prevail, those who were Primordial were much deceived in their beliefs, for no sooner had the games begun than the full glory of the Unconquered Sun was revealed to them, and he played a deeper game than they fathomed, and despite their best efforts, he heeded not the clever ploys and brutal attacks of the games but instead took control over the secret entries and exits of heaven and threw them open so the first solar noon in Yu-Shan blazed light into the hall and with it came the Solar Exalted and the Dragon Kings at the front of the doors, and they fought even the harder for seeing their hero once more with renewed faith in both his devotion to them and his unconquerable divinity.”

The light of the sun returns to the room, gently at first, and it reflects strangely upon his face, but after a moment it returns in its own completeness and the pyramid is lit completely, a blazing beacon of red-gold at its peak.

“And so the Primordials were pushed back, the Celestial Incarnae enthroned within Yu-Shan, and Gaia invited to take her place with them. And so the calm of our times began. But the Dragon Kings, who were greatly diminished, went back to their former dwellings, and were bereft for all that had been lost. They did not criticize the actions taken by themselves or the Unconquered Sun, but merely mourned that which could not be recovered.

“But they were not forgotten by the greatest one, for the Unconquered Sun reached down to them and offered his love and support in rebuilding their society, inviting them to take the place of honored elders to the new power of those who had been exalted, and so they are as we know them now, masters of art and science, philosophy and wonder. And in gratitude for this gift, and indeed all of the gifts that the Unconquered Sun had returned to them, the highest of the Dragon Kings’ priests, Etalpalli Yaotl, went to the top of the Great Pyramid which had been erected to the honor of the Unconquered Sun, and in a ritual of thanksgiving he reached into his own breast and pulled forth his heart, in offering to the powerful love and glory of the Guarding Star who had brought them back from the brink of utter destruction or interminable servitude. And after his example, the priests of the Dragon Kings continued to return the heat and power of the sun which exists in the heart back to the original source who had most lovingly given so much to them. Even as before, when they had offered the bland giftings of the lives of humanity to those who were Primordial, they offered of their own hearts upon hearts, but now there was a greater purpose. In sacrificing that which embodies life and compassion, they remember what their leader was willing to give.

“The reborn Etalpalli Yaotl leads still the sacrifice today, as is proper for the greatest of priests among the Dragon Kings, and it is said that his wings stretch so wide that they blot out the sun. But even as he speaks the words of sacrifice that the Unconquered Sun once spoke, he also reminds those he speaks to of the words of the Maiden of Endings, who has seen all beyond the end of that story, and this one; that to create that which is beautiful and intransient, you must gather those who are most loyal to your cause, and who will keep the faith most closely with you, for even if you persuade the undecided to your cause, those whom you seek to protect the most will prove your strongest allies, or darkest enemies.”

“They have been blessed for their loyalty, you know. The city of Rathess stands once more proud and tall against all who would destroy it. And there are deeper secrets there than even those who stood at the beginning of the world would have imagined, for their cleverness and artistry knows no bounds.” I smile, and offer to him the last piece of the orange, holding nothing but the peel in my left hand. It spills out in a single long ribbon over my fingers and palm, dangling on both sides.

He stares at me for a long moment, and I see him realize himself all at once, mouth tightening and stiffening, eyes alight with a fire that he cannot ever find relief from, a burning desire that consumes him more than he is able to fuel. “It is a pretty story,” he says, but I hear the underlying roughness in his voice. He takes the final slice of orange and turns it over and over again in his hand, staring down at it and not at me. “Life does not have the same prettiness that it does in your tale. The people do not understand sacrifice in the same way. They do not see the same ending that I would show them.”

“My sister and I would catch dragonflies when we were children,” I say, and he snaps out of the reverie and turns those fiery eyes upon me again. “She would always reach for them and clutch them so tightly so that they wouldn’t fly away from her. But every time that she did so, she would break their wings or their chests and they would die.” The pain that tightens my chest only causes my voice to fill out more richly, so that instead of choking me up, it forces all of the air out and in and all is used. “I taught her that she needed to reach for them gently, and to tie the thread about them gently, and delicately. Then she would be able to keep them with her all day, and release them again at night, so that there would always be dragonflies for tomorrow, even though we did not have them through the night.”

He laughs, and this time I hear the truth of it as it fills the room. His eyes wrinkle around the edges.

“Would you say that my people are more dragonflies than warriors of the Sun?” he asks, and eats the last slice of the orange.

“I would say that they are your people, and if you show them all the love you bear them, they will love you for it.” I sip my mead. “And I would say that you must let them go if you would like them to be there again in the morning.”

He laughs again, and this time he leans forward and kisses me so tightly that my mouth burns with orange and sunlight and the pressure of his heated breath, which steals mine away completely.

“I will let you go, if you will be here again in the morning to tell me another story,” he promises when he pulls away again. “I will let you go if you promise that every morning there will be another story, and I will try not to spoil the beauty I am building for them in the future with difficulties of building it now.”

“They will love you for that, your majesty,” I say, and this time I lean forward and kiss him. He tastes smoky this time, and I remember that he is of the blood of the dragon. Perhaps he will burn me with his blessings, but I do not care if I burn, for I am blinded by the beauty of the light I see all around me.  
He calls to me, and I hear him over the humming in the room, or perhaps it’s in my head, my heart, but I don’t need to look to see him, for his hand takes mine and there is a stickiness from the fruit on his fingers. He is gentler than I would have expected, with hands almost delicate as they capture me as well as my fingers. His eyes draw mine, and there is so much need in them, so much desire, so much wanting, that I throw myself whole-heartedly into that space, to fill him with as many of the rays of the sun as I am able, bright as yellow poppies swaying heavy heads that gather golden kisses from the sun and swell until they are full cups that spill over into the heart of the soil with each brilliant petal.

The light in the room grows blinding.

  
_The poet said she turn'd_ _toward_ _heav'n her face, but not_  
 _That seeing God she found her voice was wholly stilled_  
 _By pow'r_ _divine, unconquered son of words untaught._

_Enlight'ning light! I cannot speak, as all is gilt,_   
_as lance, as_ _horn, as shield_ _, as branch_ _, creations named_   
_To counter ills,_ _or fiends that would have all men killed._

_Thus hope and faith renewed, I love and gladly claim_   
_Each kiss of blessing solar praise; and each did seem,_   
_Delight and joy, within invictus sol_ _enflamed._

_A heavy task I take of him; this man redeem_   
_From blackest hell. But this the task and same reward;_   
_To aid those who of the empyrean dream._

**Author's Note:**

> Exalted takes place in a world following a violent collapse of a Golden Age, where the god-empowered beings are slowly making a resurgence.
> 
> A (MUCH TOO) Brief Glossary of other words if you need it, O Reader!  
> Invictus Sol/Sol Invictus/Ignis Divine/Sol/the Unconquered Sun - A sun god who basically Jesus-d his way into driving Creation into being a place for light and life to succeed in against the powers of the Primordial beings who made it for their entertainment and benefit only.  
> The Five Maidens (of various things) - they direct and administer/bureaucrat the way fate is created and enacted, and have their own chosen (who do not appear in this story); they are almost as powerful as Sol.  
> Autochthon - a living planet sized mechanical mechanic, who was Primordial. He is order, technology, science and obscurity -- a world apart, with his own peoples and chosen.  
> Gaia - embodied creation. The world everyone lives on and also one of the few Primordials to turn her back on the rest. She does not have chosen, but she provides the landscape for all living beings to exist on through her care. She had a former lover among the Primordials (who did not rebel) but as of the rebellion she is lovers with Luna, Incarnae of the Lunars (shapechangers) and who also is the Moon. [Yay reasons for Earth and Moon to be chill with one another]  
> Dragons - Dragonblooded have powers based in the four elements, and their powers are lineage based as opposed to god chosen. Different elements support different skill sets.  
> Dragon Kings - The Reptilian race first made by the Primordials who left behind vast structures in the time before the Solars  
> Orichalcum - Like gold, but more durable and blessed by Sol.  
> Jade - Jade comes in different colors which give it different powers, attuned with Dragonblooded most of all.


End file.
